I had forgotten why I loathe this town

This week I saw someone I went to highschool with and suddenly remembered why I've always wanted to get the hell out of Grand Rapids. Within ten minutes of saying hello, he managed to spew out the most incredible chain of anti-semitic, racist, homophobic and mysogynistic things I've heard in years. "Hey, does the 'K' in your middle name stand for 'kike?'" Why is that even a joke? How was I supposed to respond to that? Perhaps the same way I responded to his good-natured jostling about my being brown-skinned and presumably "left in the sun for too long." All I could do was purse my lips and nod my head in awkward disapproval. I guess living overseas, in New England, and in the bubble of academe have administered me a convenient dose of amnesia about what a majority of people in America really think is acceptable behavior.

I never know what to do in these situations. Part of me wanted to ream him. The other part of me wanted to slink away, hurt and humiliated. It reminded me of the way kids in kindergarten used to tease for my dark skin and Indian heritage. Even then, at the age of 5, I tried to make light of the situation and twist it with a joke. As an adult, I am rapidly losing that sense of humor.

This person teaches young children in our public schools. What if he were teaching my daughter?